The Chronicles of Darkness: Wounding Consecration
by ToriHouji
Summary: Viconia has a moment of weakness and questions her life
1. Chapter 1

The Chronicles of Darkness: Wounding Consecration

It's become more than ridiculous. I find myself looking at you when you won't notice, sighing like a fluttery schoolgirl, something I've never been. I've been through hell that few know...but haven't we all. It seems like everyone we know, every one of our friends has been through something horrific.

We've had lovers be tortured and killed, we've been tortured ourselves, we've been raped and molested. We've had our lovers leave us, take our children from us, our freedom taken forcefully, leaving us caged. We've been disillusioned, we've grown up with abusive and irresponsible parents, lost our parents, some of us in front of our very eyes.

And yet, we perservere.

Did we ever, at one point, sit there, stunned at the cruelty that fortune has handed us. Has one of us, _any _one of us, ever actually mourned our lost innocence? Have we mourned those we've lost, our sisters and brothers, mothers and fathers, lovers and children, friends? Will killing Irenicus really fix it all?

Will it bring back Gorion, Dynaheir, and Khalid? Will Imoen regain her purity? Will Yoshimo, Edwin, Korgan, and Haer'Dalis be redeemed? Will it give wealth Nalia's blasted poor? Restore Aerie's wings, will Keldorn and Jan's lovers return? Will Valygar no longer despise magic? Will Cernd's wife give him back their son? Will Mazzy cure the world of evil?

Will killing Jon Irenicus stop Lolth from pursuing me? Will it save me from my fate as a drider?

Why can't I just sit back and cry about what happened? Why won't the tears come? Why can't I stop caring about an Elfwar long past, why can't I respect men, why can't I stop being so damned cruel, why must I bear the mark from something that happened before my great-grandmother was born? Why was I born Drow?

So many questions, all without answers. I do as I must, become as I must, so I may perservere.

I have yet another question. I have lanced a wound and the poison and blood will flow so long as I wish it to. Why...how...can we function? Are we living, or are we just existing? We can find love within each other, find friendship and moments to laugh and joke. How much do we hide from each other? Why are we still living when we have lost so much? Why aren't we simply standing husks of our former selves, waking, eating, working, doing what we must to survive?

I know why. Because we are thriving, even for a brief moment, within our own personal darkness.

Aye, even Aerie, sweet pure little Aerie, she has darkness. There must have been even a brief moment, where she raged and wished to kill the circus folk for cutting off her wings. Most of us can enter it for a moment, seethe, then leave, back into ourselves. People like me, like Edwin, and like Korgan, we are steeped within our darkness. We cannot leave. It feels far too good.

I understand that I have done horrible things in my life, things that I cannot redeem myself for. Do I really deserve to have my dark skin, so that surfacers would kill me instantly, purely out of principle?

Am...am I that horrible of a woman, that this is my lot in life?

There is no healing for me, no matter how skilled I am in it. I pray to darkness, for I thrive in it, it hides my skin, it is within me and I am made of it. There is no escape for me, love, I am here and I will be for eternity. The only thing you can do is come play with me in this darkness, to dwell in it, and savor those darker, crueler things that you never indulged in before. Hurt me as you would, force me, bite me, scratch me, cut me...so long as I can be your salvation. Beat me, should you need it. Expend the fire in your blood caused by Bhaal's essence upon me, so that you are not consumed. I could not bear to see your sweet smile darkened, your soft eyes hardened, killing innocents by your own hands for eternity. Consecrate me with wounds, heal me with pain, purify me with blood.

Don't heal _me_. Leave the healing for someone who deserves it.


	2. Author's Note

Author's Note: Set before the endgame battle against Irenicus. I understand Viconia is a bit OOC, but even being Drow, sometimes people question themselves.

The first paragraph is (somewhat) for a friend. I daresay, they'll know.  
The rest is, simply, for Teddybear. Especially the last line.  
Absolution is only as far as you'll throw it, Teddybear.

Thank you. 


End file.
